By Gary Corseri
Featured Writer
Dandelion Salad
June 14, 2009
CHORUS: Go down to the Valley Forge, Tom Paine;
go down to the Valley Forge:
four thousand ghosts of an idea stand
guttering in the siege of winter,
slow-jigging in their ragged socks
while the Master General broods;
while the Master General writes and begs
aid from the wavering French.
Go and be prodigal; seal:
the holes in their blankets with words;
knit: the soles of their shoes with courage;
write: on a drumhead by the fire’s crackle,
drum-beaten words for their wounds,
balm for their wondering wounds:
PAINE: These are the times that
try men’s souls.
The summer soldier
and the sunshine patriot
will, in this crisis
shrink
from the service of their country;
but he that stands it now,
deserves the love and thanks
of man and woman.